Lover At Last(134)

Qhuinn blinked. Then he shook his head—and not as in back and forth, as in how someone would masturbate a snow globe.

“I don’t get it.”

Doc Jane sat on a rolling stool, and opened a chart on her lap. “I gave her the blood test myself. There’s a sliding scale of pregnancy hormones—”

“I’m going to be sick,” Layla cut in. “Right now—”

Everybody rushed at the poor female, but Blay was the smart one. He brought a wastepaper basket with him, and that was what the Chosen used.

As she was heaving, Qhuinn held her hair back and felt a little dizzy.

“She’s not okay,” he told the doctor.

Jane met his eyes over Layla’s head. “This is a normal part of being pregnant. For female vampires, too, apparently—”

“But she’s bleeding—”

“Not anymore. And I did an ultrasound. I can see the gestational sac. She is still pregnant—”

“Oh, shit!” Blay yelled.

For a split second, Qhuinn couldn’t figure out why the guy was cursing. And then he realized…huh, the ceiling had traded places with the wall.

No, wait.

He was passing out.

His last conscious thought was that it was really cool of Blay to catch him as he went over like a tree in the forest.



In the context of the English language, there were many more important words than “in.” There were fancy words, historic words, words that meant life or death. There were multi-syllabic tongue-twisters that required a sort out before speaking, and mission-critical pivotals that started wars or ended wars…and even poetic nonsensicals that were like a symphony as they left the lips.

Generally speaking, “in” did not play with the big boys. In fact, it barely had much of a definition at all, and, in the course of its working life, was usually nothing but a bridge, a conduit for the heavy lifters in any given sentence.

There was, however, one context in which that humble little two-letter, one-syllable jobbie was a BFD.

Love.

The difference between someone “loving” somebody versus being “in love” was a curb to the Grand Canyon. The head of a pin to the entire Midwest. An exhale to a hurricane.

Now I know why he…

As Blay sat on the floor of the exam room with Qhuinn’s loose-as-a-goose body in his lap, he couldn’t for the life of him remember what Layla had said next. Had it been “loves you”? In which case, well, yeah, he knew that the guy loved him as a friend and had for decades. And that didn’t change a thing.

Or had it been with the addition of the “in.”

In which case, he was kind of considering taking Qhuinn’s lead and having a little TO on the tile.

“How’s my other patient doing?” Doc Jane asked as Layla collapsed back on the exam table.

“Breathing,” Blay replied.

“He’ll come around.”

One would hope, Blay thought as he focused on Qhuinn’s face—like those familiar features, even though he was out of it, could somehow answer the question one way or the other.

The Chosen couldn’t possibly have said “in love.”

Couldn’t have been it. He simply refused to let two bouts of great sex rewrite someone else’s words.

“Are you sure this is okay?” he heard Layla say to Doc Jane.

“The throwing up? According to what Ehlena told me earlier, it can most certainly be part of the symptoms of a successful pregnancy. In fact, it can be a sign that things are progressing well. It’s the hormones.”

“I don’t have to return to Havers’s, do I?”

“Well, Ehlena’s coming back from visiting her father tonight. So we need to find out how much she’s comfortable treating—and then see where you’re at. I won’t lie…I think this is a miracle.”

“I agree.”

While the females spoke, Blay kept his eyes on Qhuinn’s closed lids. It was a miracle, all right. Straight up—

As if on cue, the guy came around, those thick, dark eyelashes batting as if they were trying to decide how serious he was about staying conscious.

“Layla!” he shouted as he burst upright.

Blay pushed himself backward, letting the guy go. Feeling a little stupid.

Especially as Qhuinn shot to his feet and went to the female.

Blay stayed where he was, settling back against the closed cupboards under the sink, his knees up, his hands on his thighs. Even though it tore him to pieces, he couldn’t help but watch the two of them together, Qhuinn’s dagger hand impossibly gentle as he smoothed the blond hair away from Layla’s face.

He was saying something to her, something soft and reassuring.

Before Blay knew it, he was out in the hall, walking somewhere, anywhere. As hard as it was to accept compassion from Qhuinn…it was downright impossible to witness it being imparted on someone else—even if they more than deserved it.